Reflection
by animalisticigus
Summary: A Padma and Parvati story, one ficlet per year (when it's finished). Will eventually be PadmaParvati, so steer clear if you don't like that kind of stuff.
1. Default Chapter

_How can this be taking so long? _

Padma bit her lip nervously, watching her twin sit on the rickety stool in the front of the Great Hall. Padma hadn't even been this anxious when she was trying on the Sorting Hat for herself. She was desperate for Parvati to be sorted into Ravenclaw, the house she'd been sorted in only moments earlier. Parvati gave Padma an easy smile, and they both held up crossed fingers.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Padma's heart sank to somewhere around her knees. _Of course_ Parvati was in Gryffindor. Hadn't Parvati been the one who snuck into Mama's bedroom for chocolates when they were five? Hadn't she always been the bravest? The twin's own mother and father had preferred to keep the houses traits quiet, because 'whatever house their children were sorted in was just fine'. However, Padma had the houses' traits explained to her on the train by some snooty know-it-all with bushy hair. Which was just as well, really, as the hat explained each of the houses in great detail.

Padma watched gloomily as her twin walked to the Gryffindor table, Parvati glancing only once at Padma as if to say, "Who knew?" The twins had always been close, no matter their differences. They could finish each other's sentences, but they laughed at different jokes. Papa had said that siblings "usually got into the same house". Either way, he'd said that this would be a great opportunity to meet more people.

At this, both twins had nodded enthusiastically, but secretly, Padma had thought she didn't need any more friends.

_We haven't slept apart since the day we were born._ At this thought, Padma's heart fell the rest of the way to her feet. How would she fall asleep without Parvati there?

The answer to that would be: She wouldn't.

Padma had been lying awake for over an hour, attempting various position on her bunk to no avail. The bunks were extremely comfortable, but it was empty without her twin there beside her.

Deciding that sleep was an impractical thing to hope for, Padma got up and headed downstairs to the Ravenclaw common room. Maybe she'd stare at the ceiling until the felt tired. There was a distraction, however. Someone was outside the door to the Ravenclaw common room, fiercely whispering.

Warily, Padma stepped over by the door to eavesdrop. A familiar voice echoed back at her.

"Intelligent? Clever? Sharp? Quick? Intelligent?" The voice Padma knew could only be Parvati's was apparently trying to guess the password into the common room.

"You already guessed intelligent. Go back to your own common room, little girl," the stout man in the portrait replied unenthusiastically.

Immediately, Padma pushed her way out of the portrait hole and into the hall. "Parvati! How did you know the way to Ravenclaw's common room?"

Parvati smiled. "I watched your group head this way. From there I guessed."

She sighed and sat on the floor. "I can't sleep, Padma."

Padma sat down beside her. "I can't sleep, either."

"Me, in Gryffindor. Why do you think this happened? We were supposed to be in the same house." She sighed again. "I mean, it's a great house. The girls in there are really nice. …Well, except for that bushy know-it-all girl Hermione Granger."

Both girls giggled.

"Well, I had the pleasure of being introduced to some loony air-head, Luna Lovegood."

"I watched her get sorted." Parvati smiled. "Hermione said that Gryffindor sounded like the best house."

Padma knew her sister wasn't trying to gloat. Fishing for compliments, maybe, but not gloating.

"I thought it sounded like the best house too." Padma stared down the hall a moment as the tried to best formulate what was going through her mind. Her house ghost drifted by, so Padma tried her best to look invisible, but the lady specter seemed not to notice her. Padma glanced over at her double, who was watching the gray ghost drift by without concern.

"Parvati, you belong in Gryffindor."


	2. Lockharts and Mirrors

Padma stalked grumpily out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom towards her common room. Lockhart was a conceited git, and all those girls in Padma's class just fueled his vanity by fawning over him.

Well. She wasn't writing any damn report on the 'charms and accomplishments of Lockhart'.

_People that vain need to be buried alive_, Padma thought, slamming the dormitory door behind her and flopping onto her cot.

She reached over to her dresser, opening a drawer and pulling out an ancient-looking mirror.

"Parvati," she whispered into the glass. It had been Padma who charmed the mirrors so that the twins could talk wherever they were. She'd overheard a professor discussing the mirrors possibly being banned from Hogwarts.

"Hey, Padma," Parvati laughed from the other side of the glass. Padma could the Lavender in the background.

Suddenly, Padma wished Cho was in her dormitory, and Parvati was seeing Cho and her giggling together. Lavender pushed Parvati to the side a bit as she nosed her way to the glass.

"Parvati and I have detention!"

"What?" Padma was slightly alarmed to hear this, detention wasn't really something Patils _did_.

Parvati grinned, showing her white teeth. "Yes, Padma, detention. But it's with Lockhart! Isn't he wonderful?"

Padma had the sneaking suspicion that this 'detention' wasn't an accident. _Lavender came up with this, _she thought, despite the fact that the accusation was baseless.

"I actually don't care for Lockhart," Padma said carefully, "he gives dumb assignments about himself all the time."

"Because he's so wonderful!" Lavender blurted, staring incredulously through the mirror.

Parvati's expression became solemn for a moment, attempting to respect her sister's opinion. "He does give dumb assignments…" she said softly.

Then her face broke into another girlish smile. "He is dreamy, though."

"Yeah, that he is," Padma replied untruthfully. "Listen, Parvati, I have to study for the Transfiguration quiz. I'll talk to you guys later. Good luck on your . . . detention."

"Homework's always on your mind, Padma," Lavender remarked cheerfully, standing up and moving out of the mirror's sight.

"Thanks, Padma," Parvati whispered. "Love you."

"I love you, too. Bye." Padma placed the mirror in its drawer and shut it, but she didn't study her Transfiguration. She rolled over and pressed her face into the pillow, because homework wasn't _always_ on her mind.


	3. Predictions and Perfume

"Have you met Professor Trelawney, Padma?" Parvati and Padma were walking together into the Great Hall for lunch.

Padma frowned. "You know I don't put much stock into that Divination, Parvati. That's why I'm not taking the class."

"I know you don't, but you haven't met Professor Trelawney. She's a real Seer. You should go talk to her, she does palms."

"Mm," Padma hummed noncommittally.

_I'm only doing this for Parvati, _Padma told herself as she climbed the ladder up into the space where Divination was held. I mean, if her twin loved this woman so much, she had to be fantastic.

Reaching the top, she stood and looked around. The horribly perfumed air was suffocating her, as was the heat.

"Good evening, my dear Parvati." An owlish woman with excessive jewelry stepped out from the shadows. "How can I help you?"

The heavy air and heat were making Padma's eyes water, and she began to choke. "I – I think I'm dying," she managed.

"I can safely say that you are not to die this year," an overly dramatic look appeared on the woman's face. "Some, however, are not so fortunate."

"I'm not Parvati, I'm Padma."

"Certainly! I saw it in your eyes, dear, the moment you entered. Show me your palm."

Padma didn't mention the fact that Trelawney had _called_ her Parvati, and instead skeptically held out her hand.

One of Trelawney's spidery hands grabbed hers, and she turned it over, inspecting the palm. "Ah. . .I see. My dear Padma, your life is like train tracks."

Padma raised an eyebrow. The metaphor seemed wildly inappropriate.

"You do the same thing every day, but it isn't what you want to be doing. What you desire is wrong, all wrong."

Padma stopped snorting internally and froze.

"My dear, you'll never get what you want." Trelawney let go of the raven-haired girl's hand, her numerous shawls swishing as she did so.

Padma ripped her hand away and stood up.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, stalking out.

_That makes no sense, _she thought. But even as she thought it, she didn't believe it.


	4. Kisses and Portrait Holes

"So, that French boy you were dancing with was adorable, no?" Parvati, looking beautiful in her pink dress, twirled for a moment in glee.

_No. _"Yes, he was gorgeous."

Parvati noticed the glum expression on Padma's face and stopped twirling. "What is the matter, my dear?" Recently, Parvati had taken to adding 'my dear' to most everything she said, as a tribute to her mystical idol, Sybil Trelawney.

"Oh, nothing," Padma lied.

"Sure, sure, nothing. Come on, Padma, I'm your _twin._"

Padma smiled weakly. "Well, I guess I'm just upset because my date's ignored me all night."

Her twin smiled back. "My dear twin, methinks we were both ignored equally tonight."

Both girls giggled. It felt good to giggle without any real joke; it was such a natural twin thing. The giggles died down, and the twins caught each other's eyes. A reckless daring seized Padma, and she glared internally at the reckless daring, which didn't affect things much.

Padma closed the gap between the two and leaned forward, touching her lips with her double's. It was something they did when they were little, but not since they were at least ten. It felt different, somehow, to her, but apparently not to Parvati, she had the same girlish grin and twinkling lights in her eyes when Padma pulled away.

Padma wondered if kisses were readable, and if the sparks that were racing around her head were typical.

"Goodnight, dear," Parvati said, turning with a wave and walking in the direction of her own common room.

"I love you," Padma said quietly, when her mirror image was out of hearing range.

She cursed the Gods for making the French boy less than gorgeous, and for making delusions that wouldn't just leave her alone, and for the electric waves rolling through her body. But most of all, she cursed them for making a three word phrase so difficult.

She turned to the stout man in her own portrait hole, muttering, "Kalumpzup".

"You sure did," he replied, swinging open.

"Shut up."


End file.
